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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536834">heartbeat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh'>gotham_ruaidh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire &amp; Jamie [136]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:41:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by 05x07 "The Ballad of Roger Mac"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jamie Fraser/Murtagh Fraser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire &amp; Jamie [136]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/345047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>heartbeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>originally posted at <a href="https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/614482463659638784/prompt-heartbeat">Imagine Claire &amp; Jamie</a> on tumblr</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’d always loved this one particular place - sitting with his back up against the broch, watching the sun slowly set over the fields, saying a Rosary to focus his mind.</p><p>Already he’d prayed a novena today, having sought refuge in his particular spot right after breakfast, when it had become abundantly clear that he couldn’t be anywhere near the house today.</p><p>Strange, how it had been barely a decade since he had first come to these lands, riding his horse at a punishing pace between Leoch and Beauly, negotiating the terms of Brian and Ellen’s settlement with his father and her brothers. With Ellen growing bigger and bigger with child every day. </p><p>Willie was a braw lad now, already taking on responsibilities at the age of five, with the assistance of John Murray. He’d make a good laird, when the time came - he was Brian’s wee shadow.</p><p>And tiny Jenny - at age two, she had already become Ellen’s wee shadow. Already Mistress Crook let her help in the kitchens, hoisting her up on the counter to help mix the bannock dough.</p><p>He was grateful to have a roof over his head, and to be so close to Brian and Ellen - who he loved more than anything on this earth. Grateful to have a hand in the rearing of the bairns, and to have the dirt under his feet, and to have such a peaceful spot as this to escape to, when need be.</p><p>For all that the women of Lallybroch wanted to see him with a wife and family - he knew all too well that never would he have such blessings in his own life. Not when the only woman he’d ever loved, was married to another - his kinsman, no less. And not when he knew how deeply Ellen loved Brian, and he her, and how it would be a mortal sin to even dare think about coming between them.</p><p>Still - Willie and Jenny stirred something in him.</p><p>So today he prayed and prayed and prayed.</p><p>And wondered - was it wrong to wish that for the child Ellen was laboring to bring into the world today, he would perhaps have the keeping of?</p><p>“<em>Sancta Maria, mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus</em>,” he rasped, “<em>Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae</em>.”</p><p>The sun had just sunk below the horizon when wee footsteps approached.</p><p>He turned - to see a huffing Willie Fraser, hair alight with the flames of the sunset.</p><p>“I’ve a wee brother!” he exclaimed. “Come meet him!”</p><p>Murtagh crossed himself and stood, pocketing the rosary that was his only memory of a mother many years dead. He took Willie’s hand, and guided the boy back in the direction of the house.</p><p>“Have ye seen him yet, <em>a bhailach</em>?”</p><p>Willie nodded. “Aye! He’s so wee. Mam said she’s waiting for ye to come meet him, to tell us his name.”</p><p>Soon they crested the hill and approached the house. Willie vibrating with joy. Murtagh’s heart hammering with hope.</p>
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